Fresh
by SabineAmnell
Summary: In a small town in Indiana, a heartbroken serial killer with a unexplained M.O. is stalking women. If the pattern remains, two more women are in danger and time is running out. Mulder and Scully make a few discoveries about one another along the way.
1. Fresh

Author's Note: I revamped this story after I re-read it and found many typos and continuity issues. I also added some things, all in all, it's been rewritten better. Thanks for reading again!

* * *

Timeline: Three weeks after 'Fight the Future'

**Prologue**

**Arcadia, Indiana**

**September 16th**

**5:33pm**

Elise VanDuran's heels clicked along the pavement as she walked from her office downtown to her car. Her light brown hair billowed out behind her as the autumn wind blew through the lot. The day was finally over and she stretched her neck from side to side to ease the tightened muscles while fumbling with the keys to open her door.

"Elise?" The young woman turned at the sound of her name and to see a tall thin man with red hair and dark eyes. His face bore pock marks and freckles and his small features took in hers, "It is Elise, isn't it?" He repeated and instinctively, Elise nodded, but backed away.

"Hi Bernard," she said warily. She had never felt all that comfortable around Bernard, her co-worker, but she had always tried to remain cordial. Everyone else seemed to get along well with him, but she felt that he stared at her too much, not to mention the odd vibe she felt when he spoke to her. He began to mumble something that she couldn't quite catch. She heard what sounded like her name several times, however, his voice low and constant.

"I gotta go, Bernard." She said and she scrambled into her car. Hitting the gas hard, she careened out of the parking lot and down the one way street.

* * *

**September 19th**

**9:54pm**

Elise stepped over her couch cushions, plopping her weight down heavily as he eyes concentrated on the television. Her small home was tidy with whites and creams as the main colors. Her red couch stood out by comparison. Taking a bite of the last of her dinner, she set the plate on the coffee table and yawned. Her heels had already been shed while her panty hose and skirt remained. She began to strip them off now, absently watching the evening news. Sighing in relief as the binding business wear had been peeled away, she stood to take her plate to the kitchen.

Hanging a left, she was shocked to be face to face with the very same red headed man who had approached her three days before. Bernard! Before she could scream his fist made contact with her face and her body hit the floor with a thud.

Just as the plain faced man left the small tidy house, he looked back at his handiwork. The body lie on the floor, decomposed beyond recognition and the man smiled before locking and closing the door.

* * *

**Chapter One: Fresh**

**Washington DC**

**September 20th**

**6:55am**

As Agent Fox Mulder climbed the stairs of the YMCA, full clad in a suit and a case file in his hand, he scanned the small amount of runners on the track above the gym. Spying the red ponytail that he was seeking, he waved her down with the manila file folder and a smile. His partner, Agent Dana Scully slowed her rigorous jog and made her way toward him using a fast walk, her ponytail swinging from side to side. If the reason for his visit was not of a serious nature, Mulder might have smirked at his partner. Scully was clad in a tight sleeveless top that clearly showed her damp chest while black pants hugged her shapely legs. Her hair was held high behind her head with a rubber band while errant wisps of red floated around her porcelain face perfectly setting off her blue eyes and full red lips. He cleared his throat and his mind of any thoughts other than those surrounding Elise VanDuran.

It was early and she wasn't due at work for another two hours so her look of concern was understandable. It was obvious he had come here with something important and their ability to speak to one another without words was advantageous in moments like this one. He did not have to explain himself nor did she have to tell him that she trusted that whatever he had to interrupt her morning routine was not trivial. She was on board, he knew, as her sea blue eyes regarded him seriously, glancing at the file in his hand.

Wordlessly, she fell into step as he began to walk away from the track and he handed her the case file. She took it gently, almost tentatively, and opened it. Her eyes fluttered across the page as she rapidly took in the heinous crime. It was less than twelve hours old, but Scully pulled back a page and found a similar crime dated last year.

"Elise VanDuran was found in her home this morning by her boyfriend, Rudy Giles. Several people claim to have seen her earlier that day at work, however her body shows signs of major decomposition, as if she had been dead several months." Mulder summarized and his partner nodded absently, still reading through the facts.

"And you're sure that it's her?" Scully questioned, still not looking at him.

"All we know is that the blood type matches, but we can't really run prints nor do we have much else to ID the body. The teeth were removed, the fingers are just bones, and she is not recognizable physically." He explained, "We know her blood type by her parents, but only from medical records. They are both dead, so DNA proof is going to be difficult to obtain." He added, reading her thoughts before she could voice them, "But, so far everything seems to add up. The corpse is estimated to be the same age, height, approximate weight, and hair color of Elise VanDuran."

"And this isn't the first time," Scully noted, tapping the page that held older reports of the same type of findings.

They exited the YMCA and Scully winced at the sunny day opposing the dim lighting inside the building. Mulder's tall form cast a shadow on her and she used it to shield her eyes.

"No, last year on exactly the same day three women were found in similar circumstances. The investigation was shotty at best, especially since I believe they are dealing with serial murders. They investigated them as isolated murders. One year before that, three other women were found in the same way and the department was just not equipped to handle such an odd case. This is the seventh murder in all and it came to me now that they believe they have a serial killer. They also cannot explain the decomposition since no obvious accelerant was used."

Scully paused, her attention now solely on him as they entered his car, "What do you think it is?" She asked, her skeptical mind obviously looking for a logical explanation.

"I just think it's strange, we'll know more when we get there today, and if the pattern persisted, we are looking forward to two more murders." He offered diplomatically.


	2. Autopsy

Scully changed quickly from gym babe to serious FBI agent before they took the short but hurried flight to Indiana.

With Mulder expecting two more murders, there was a time crunch to stop them, so they arrived early afternoon. Her perfectly tailored suit and heels gave her a professional appearance and her auburn hair framed her face. She kept stride with Mulder, despite being far shorter, as they approached the crime scene. The body had been removed, but a scene of struggle became apparent as they entered the small tidy house. A plate lie broken on the floor and bits of food were scattered just beyond the kitchen. A disturbance in the wall left a near hole and she knew some great force would have caused it. Scully's prompt mind was interrupted by a greeting, "You from the FBI?" A young blue suited badge asked, his tone not unfriendly.

"This is Special Agent Scully, I'm Special Agent Mulder," Mulder said, as was his custom to introduce them both.

"Dotson, I'm with the Sheriff's Office." He shook both of their hands, "Thank you for coming down so fast. No one can understand. She was seen coming home last night by a neighbor, there is no sign of a break-in. Someone, a Bernard Tribbet, positively identified Elise VanDuran's body, said he had seen the same clothes on her that day at work." He explained as he led them further inside, "We want this taken care of as quickly as possible." He looked at them expectantly, as if their simple presence would make the killer walk through the front door and give himself up.

"Well, we'll get right to work then." Scully offered, finally after an awkward silence, "I would like to see the body as soon as we're done here." She said, believing that the answer lay with what physical evidence the body could provide. She glanced up at Mulder, his serious face taking in the scene and now almost ignoring the young officer. She could tell that he was imagining the murder, hoping to look at the consequences of the struggle and damage, and create a replica of what had happened in his mind. He would know what had caused the hole in the wall, whether it be a fist or a body hitting it. Scully knew that this was not her forte as an investigator though she admired the ability in her partner. With the facts in front of her, she was brilliant at making a connection, to organize the events in her head, and be knowledgeable about the how. The why eluded her, however, but not Mulder. He was hovering at the hole in the wall, which was about eye level, as these thoughts came to a conclusion and he glanced back at her, "This is where the attack came, but maybe not the actual murder itself. The body was found in the bedroom, almost ceremoniously laid out." He commented, "The scene can't be more than a day or so old, yet the time of death is estimated to be much more than that." He straightened, "This attack happened about twelve hours ago according to the report, the food on the floor is not rotted, the plate shards are not dusty, and the victim was seen leaving work and coming home. But, for the body, months seem to have passed." He mused, his tone mystified, "What kind of mutation or power would allow someone to accelerate time on a single object?" He mused to himself.

"There are accelerates that could have been used, Mulder, even if none were readily found. Like you said, the previous investigations may have been shotty and physical evidence might have been missed in light of the fact that this town has no forensic investigative unit." His partner suggested, staying in the realm of physical possibility.

"Mhmm," Mulder said, checking out again as he studied the case file again, "Look at the previous victims, Scully." He tapped the page, his hazel eyes concentrating, "Ellie Dorch and Samantha Simmons. In that same year, Dany Easton. But, the year before Elsie Roberts, Samantha Stewart, and Deena Caine."

The dawn of Mulder's discovery had reached her as well, "He's killing the same three women."

Mulder nodded, "In his mind, he is killing them over and over again." He said, looking at her meaningfully.

She knew that a motive wouldn't help them with a physical case, though, so she said, "I will know more once I get a look at the body. I was going to suggest that I do that now." She wanted to be useful, but standing around the crime scene was wasting her talents, she knew.

"That's a good idea," He agreed, "Call me with what you find. I'm going to try and talk to the boyfriend and some of the people that she worked with. I'll catch a ride with Dotson."

That was how it worked between them, and Scully accepted it, "Okay." She turned to go after he handed her the car keys and they parted ways until one of them could make a break in the case.

* * *

**Arcadia Memorial Hospital Morgue**

**2:39pm**

Two hours later, Scully had only found what Mulder suspected. The body had decomposed quite naturally and she found no traces of accelerants. Truthfully, she was stumped and had estimated the time of death to be over six months ago, though after a few months, the timeline could be very difficult to guess. Many things could affect the decomposition of a body; heat, cold, animals, tampering, so it would be difficult to give an exact time of death unless Scully did more work on the body. Looking at the past cases, she wouldn't have time. This body still had flesh and had been stored in a cool dry place. Taking out the fact that the person had been alive less than a day ago, Scully would have guessed that the body might have been stored in a basement or somewhere out of the sun and weather. The decomposition was not so far advanced that she couldn't easily determine a few things about the person's death. What she had found so far, did not paint a pretty picture. She worked to form a theory in her mind, but what facial structure and initial evidence was left pretty clearly stated that this was the body of Elise VanDuran. Everything matched up, as far as she could deduce.

When her phone beeped, she had just sent in blood and DNA work to the FBI lab. She answered it with "Scully." And her partner's voice sounded on the other end, "Scully, it's me. We have another victim. I think you should come down here right away." Scully was speechless for a moment, the second victim had come so fast that it made her worry that much more about a third.


	3. Tribbet

**2213 West Auburn Street**

**3:19pm**

After being provided with the address, Scully drove speedily to the location where Mulder claimed another victim had been discovered. She walked fast after parking, her auburn hair and long coat blowing in the wind behind her as it whipped around the area. A rainstorm seemed to be on its way and she glanced at the darkening sky before gaining entry to the house with a flash of her badge. The scene was eerily similar and she suppressed a sigh.

When Mulder caught sight of his partner, he began to speak immediately, filling her in, "Samantha Gayton, Twenty nine years old, last seen walking her dog into the house about four hours ago. Her sister says she spoke with Samantha on the phone less than two hours ago." He gave this information to point out, once again, the fact that the body was far more decomposed than two hours would explain.

Scully let out a sober breath and began to explain her side of things, "Elise VanDuran's body shows few signs of anything except completely natural decomposition." She began, "I found evidence of sexual assault and strangulation, but beyond that I can find no explanation as to how her body could experience advanced decomposition."

"And we're still expecting one more." Mulder sighed, frustrated.

Officer Dotson approached, his face red and his jaw set,"Samantha Gayton was positively identified by her neighbor by the clothing. He had seen her earlier today." Dotson didn't linger after this, seemingly unable to stand still in his stress and he wandered outside, mumbling to himself. There were police officers everywhere, investigators gathering crime scene evidence and Scully noticed the body as the flash of a photograph caught her attention. It was laid out neatly, but putrid and decayed. The hair remained its blonde color, but few other recognizable features remained on her face and dead flesh hung on corroded muscle.

"Did you find anything with the interviews?" Scully wanted to know.

Mulder shook his head, "Rudy, the boyfriend of Elise VanDuran's story checks out." Mulder began, "He was in Chicago until early this morning. He checked out of his hotel at three thirty with the desk clerk and caught a small passenger plane back to Indiana. He found his girlfriend at about a quarter after five. He said he was trying to catch her before she went off to work as a surprise since he was supposed to be in Chicago until this evening." Scully knew the rest, when the body had been discovered by police and a serial murderer suspected, they wasted no time in calling the FBI. Naturally, a case with such oddities would be directed at Mulder and herself.

"The rest of her co-workers don't know anything beyond the fact that she was at work yesterday. But there was one co-worker that failed to come in today." Mulder said, his hasty mind taking him further than his partner would be apt to go. Mulder had already pegged anyone unusual as a suspect, but Scully would be far more cautious about potentially harassing someone who was simply too ill to come into work, "He might be our only lead for now."

Scully knew as well as Mulder that every lead, no matter how seemingly insignificant, should be followed up. That was basic academy stuff, one of the elementary rules of investigation, like the fact that no two prints are alike.

She nodded, "At the very least we could get his statement. What's his name?" She asked.

"Bernard Tribbet." He said, looking back at his notebook.

Scully looked up at him sharply, "That's the man who identified her body." She said, knowing Mulder had been lost in the crime scene earlier and may not have heard this information. Once again, her aptitude for pure facts made them that much closer to a real lead, and Mulder watched her with unhidden admiration for a split second. The moment did not last and his FBI face masked anything else but the case.

Dotson had overheard, "Yeah, Tribbet is a nice enough fellow, but not a real success with the ladies. He's harmless though." The officer assured them, "Ms. VanDuran only had her boyfriend here in Indiana and so we sought out a co-worker as someone who had seen her that day. With the boyfriend being out of town and all."

"We had better go check it out anyway, no lead like a dead one," He said, quickly passing Dotson, trusting that Scully was behind him. She was, of course, and he glanced back, meaningfully, "It's always the 'harmless' ones, isn't it?"


	4. Broken Hearts

It turned out that Tribbet's home was a trailer several miles south and the two agents were reluctant but determined to leave the scenes of action for a possible dead end. They were silent for a time until Scully spoke up.

"I wish we knew more about this guy." She pointed out, realizing the time constraint, but hating to go into potential danger without more knowledge, more facts so they knew what to expect.

"This kind of killer is not confrontational." Mulder told her, "He preys on the weak, hides and would run away before attacking."

"Too bad he didn't prey on someone with a gun license and good aim." She said, her voice becoming more heated. Mulder glanced at her and realized that these crimes had upset her. Not that he was a heart of stone, but Scully was generally less personally offended by the crimes they investigated. He realized that she was imagining herself in the situation, her life just carelessly stolen away when the anger was actually directed at someone else entirely. He chose his next words carefully, "If we are on the right track, we will stop him from harming someone else."

"A broken heart is a powerful force." He added, "It's generally why serial killers kill. They have suffered some loss, some terrible experience and they internalize their anger until it must come out."

"Which is why there are so few women serial killers." Scully determined, her voice still on edge, "Statistically, men are less likely to reach for support, less likely to accept support or show their feelings."

Mulder swallowed, remembering a very potent time where his feelings were shown for her to see, a moment where he had asked for her support, asked her not to leave. That hallway outside his apartment where he had bared his soul and taken her in an embrace that should never have been interrupted. As much as he had hoped for the moment again, the heightened emotions were once again closed behind doors and ignored. He was unsure why all of this was coming up at the moment, but he attempted to push it back down, "How likely are you to show your feelings or express the need for support, Scully?" There was the slightest hint of accusation in his tone, as if challenging her to deny the fact that she had pushed him away in the times where she needed support the most. He remembered Donald Pfaster and the case where Scully had hidden her emotional distress very effectively until she had nearly become his victim.

Scully did not immediately answer, her blue eyes cast down and Mulder could tell she was probably thinking of the very same thing that he was. The wound had not entirely healed, but he felt even more protective and respectful of her at the same time. She had finally shown herself to be fragile, vulnerable, and human. Her cool persona had cracked and Mulder had seen the walls crumble around her. To see how deeply she was effected only made the fact that she kept her cool that much more alluring. She could investigate the most heinous of crimes, see the horrific and shocking events but her logical head rarely left her. But, for Mulder, seeing susceptible Scully had made her seem more feminine, more than just his partner. He had seen her as a woman, without a badge, gun, or scalpel, Scully was just Dana. He longed for more of Dana in a situation where she could open to him again without the fear or peril, but simply be herself. This was rare between them, but he coveted those instances. When Scully built her walls back up each time, she left more and more open to him.

"Just about as likely as you are." She said carefully, and Mulder realized the truth of her words. He had not exactly been forthcoming when it came to his emotions, but only gave in reaction to her. Often he would hide behind humor and he knew this was probably frustrating for Scully. Suddenly, he saw that she had to dig for his vulnerability almost more than he had to dig for hers.

"I wouldn't trust them with anyone else." He admitted softly, "Even if it is rare." Only she understood, or even attempted to. With most others, they brushed him off as 'Spooky' Mulder.

Scully gave him the smallest of smiles and once again, they both knew the mind of the other. Mutual trust and respect always flowed between them but this was a rare occasion where it was verbalized. He pulled the car in front of a run-down trailer that once appeared as if it used to be white.


	5. Samantha

**3:44pm**

The two agent approached the trailer cautiously, both hyper aware of the guns in their holsters and ready to pull them out with a second's notice. Statistically, routine stops and seemingly everyday contacts with citizens and supposedly dead end leads were the leading cause of death among law enforcement. It was another of those basic academy rules; expect danger in the least likely of places.

Scully was noticing that the place was a good one for privacy as she studied the mobile home in the woods. It was sunk into what used to be mud and looked as if it had been in need of significant repairs for some time. With a glance at Mulder, and seeing that he was ready, she knocked on the aluminum door.

A woman with dyed bright red hair wearing a floral nightgown answered. Her heavy set frame make the floors creak as she shifted, "Yes?" She asked, looking between the two agents. Scully looked her over, making a mental list in her mind. Mid fifties, approximately two hundred pounds, brown eyes, dyed hair, and about five inches taller than herself. Mentally filing away a physical profile was a habit with just about everyone she interviewed or came off as behaving abnormally, "We are agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully with the FBI and we're looking for Bernard Tribbet." She announced, her voice commanding while polite.

"Bernard is my son," The woman answered, cautiously, "He don't live here. He only uses the address so he don't get junk mail and bills."

"Do you know where your son is, Ms. Tribbet?" Mulder asked and she shook her head. Mulder was intrigued by Bernard's evasion and Scully was crestfallen. More chasing, more frustration, and more potential danger for another victim.

"Can we ask you a few questions?" Mulder asked, inviting himself and Scully inside.

"That'd be alright." She said, motioning them inside her cluttered home, "Has he done something wrong?" She asked, her voice thickened by years of smoking. The two agents could not find a place to sit as every available flat space was crammed with newspapers, knickknacks, and clothing. Scully had labeled this woman a hoarder in her mind before continuing, "When was the last time you saw your son, Ms. Tribbet?" She asked, skipping over the question that she had not yet answered for herself.

"Barbara." The woman corrected with a yellow toothed smile that looked more like a wince, "I saw him a few weeks ago, said he had gotten a new job. He gave me a bit of money and then left." Her palms turned upward in a helpless motion, "He tries to take care of me, but I would rather see him get out more. My son is a bit of a bum, you see. Worthless really, and I never see him."

"Did he say where he was staying?" Mulder interjected and

Barbara shook her head, "He doesn't want me to visit, he says. He says he is embarrassed by how small and shabby his home is." This nearly made Mulder smile with irony, but he only nodded slowly, trying to breath shallow to keep the smell in the trailer from seeping into his nose.

"Do you have any pictures of him?" Scully asked, and

Mulder once again appreciated her shrewd thinking. While he may have drilled Bernard Tribbet's mother on his personal life, Scully's focus was constantly on the physical. A photo would help them identify their suspect was Scully's thinking. A motive and figuring out his strange ability would help us figure out who is next was Mulder's thinking.

Barbara brought out a photo album and opened it, setting it on top of what must have been a counter but now looked more like a pile of trash. There were several photos in the book, yellowed with cracked edges and Barbara tapped on one, indicating her son's picture. The pale and plain faced man was with a blonde woman, both were smiling radiantly. Scully picked up the picture and turned it over, her eyes catching on a label written in blue ink on the back; Samantha and Bernard 1995. Scully's jaw set and she tensed, "Who is this with him?"

"Samantha was his girlfriend, the last one he had." Barbara took back the photo and Scully gave Mulder a meaningful look, "Do you have a recent picture?" She asked, and Barbara handed her one, "This was last Christmas."

Scully took it, "May I keep this?"

"Why? What's going on?" Barbara asked, her voice growing urgent.

"Your son is a suspect in a crime we are investigating." Scully finally told her.

Barbara seemed taken aback, "What did that little bastard do?" She said, getting angrier than Scully could have predicted. Even with the suspect's mother seemingly on the right side of the law, Scully was unwilling to give her much information, "Please let us know if he contacts you. Thank you for your time, Ms. Tribbet," she said, giving the woman her card before turning to go.

"Sure, I will." Barbara called after her.

Mulder nearly stopped her, nearly said something else to keep the conversation going, but Scully had obviously wanted it to end so he dipped his head toward Ms. Tribbet and walked swiftly behind his partner, "She could have provided more, Scully." He suggested gently, not wanting to break the camaraderie moment they had in the car.

"We know who we're looking for now, Mulder and I don't want to waste a second getting this man's face on tonight's news." She didn't have to say why, they both made the connection. Scully was worried about another connection it might make with her partner, however and softened her voice, "I know you want to stop him before he can find another victim, but if he feels like he is on the run, it might stop him from choosing another victim." She rationalized as they both got into the car.

As he began to drive, Mulder knew what Scully was thinking, knew that she thought the very name of his sister would make him lose control of the investigation. She was both wrong and correct in this assumption. The woman's name had not been lost on him and his heart twinged in a very familiar pain. It was an old pain, one in which he was so acquainted that it was almost a comfort to go back to. It kept him grounded in his quest and renewed his loyalty to the work with the X-Files and to Scully, who had stuck by his side through it all, never following through the orders to debunk his work as she had been assigned, "I know what you're thinking." He said after a moment, "And in the spirit of trusting you with my feelings, I won't lie and say that it doesn't drudge up some hurt to hear Samantha's name during all this, but you're here to keep my head on straight. You're right, we need to get this face on every news channel so that he is exposed."

Scully's hand moved to grasp Mulder's as she gave him an encouraging smile, "You're alright?" She inquired her voice tender and supportive.

He turned, his hazel eyes connecting with her blue ones for a moment before he turned back to the road, "You're here to make sure of that too." He said, returning her gesture and giving her hand a squeeze.


	6. Diana

Barbara Tribbet walked slowly to the tiny cluttered bedroom of her mobile home, her slippered feet making a shuffling sound as she went. The door opened to reveal her son, tall, light skinned and freckled. She gave him an apologetic smile and he gave her a look of cold steel, "You spoke poorly of me, mother." His hands had balled up into fists and his body shuddered in fury.

Barbara scoffed, "I had to get rid of them," She reasoned, softly, "If they thought I approved of your actions then they may have taken me in for questioning." She put two hands on either side of his face, running her fingers through his light red hair adoringly, "You need me. I know. You couldn't do this without me. But, they know who you are, darling." She said, her eyes growing misty as she choked back a sob. It was all over. They would have to run and go into hiding. But, the year was not over, the time had been too short to finish their work. It could not be left undone, she determined.

"You practically turned me in," He growled, before his voice softened, "What will I do, mother?" He asked, "Diana evades me at every turn, but she must pay. Now I can't even finish because the FBI is on me." He was nearly in a panic by the time his words ended.

"This is the only way your heart can mend. Women will harm you at every turn." His mother said as if this had been stated many times before.

"And I must stop them, so they can never hurt me again...so they can never hurt anyone ever again." He finished, "But, I have been discovered, mother." He whimpered, turning from angry man to mamma's boy.

"I have a solution my love," She whispered. There was only one way to give them time, to stop her son's arrest and allow them to escape. Fortunately, it just also happened to kill two birds with one stone. They could finish their work and silence those who knew. This would stall the investigation and she could escape with her son, "Diana is much closer than you think." She whispered, handing Bernard the business card she had been given. When Bernard looked at the name on the card, he grinned.


	7. Almost

1:11am

There seemed to be an obvious culprit, someone who had plenty of evidence to get convicted of the crimes they were investigating, but no one was paying attention to the oddity of the condition of the bodies; no one but Mulder. This was not unusual, Mulder seemed to always be the one to want to know the how and why, rather than simply solving the crime. He also had a habit of looking to the strange and seeking an explanation while others focused on getting the job done. He had theorized, to Scully, that whoever they were dealing with had some ability to take an object and age it. She had graciously kept this theory to herself and, not as graciously, told him that it was ludicrous. When he asked her to explain it, she said, in her usual tone of patience, "Just because I can't explain it now doesn't mean there is no logical explanation. It doesn't mean it's magic." He had scoffed and shook his head and again wondered why he was the only one focused on the bizarre bodies that did not fit the facts.

This was a bit unfair, Mulder thought. His partner was just as focused at the knowledge that could be gained from unusual circumstances, but the priority was always the solution first. She would no doubt want to look further into the forensic evidence to attempt to explain the condition in which the bodies were found. Scully was just as curious as Mulder, but far more practical. Right now, the practical thing to do was seek out Bernard Tribbet and make an arrest before he claimed the third expected victim. They had done their job, the news had come out with Bernard Tribbet's name and face, and hopefully halting any trust that may have allowed him into homes previously.

The local police were canvasing the area and were on high alert for their suspect. The murders, that all took place in one day previously, were now lagging, spurring confidence that the news flash had crippled Bernard Tribbet from finding a new victim. Even so, they had all stayed on high alert, waiting for a call, when finally Dotson had approached the sleepy agents and suggested they go to their hotel rooms. He promised to call if they heard anything and they had both gratefully accepted.

In Scully's mind, they had done all they could that night and as Mulder watched her as they drove to the hotel, he could see that she was spent. Her eyelids drooped and Mulder couldn't blame her; a twenty hour day had done him in as well. It had been raining for hours and the soft sound on the windshield made them both long for a bed, Mulder swallowed the sudden heart in his throat when he imagined sharing his bed. He glanced again at Scully, who seemed to be having no such thoughts.

Their hotel was a faded salmon color with doors facing out and outside walkways with rusted gates. After climbing the stairs to the second floor, they both paused at their door (at least they were under an awning above the walkway) and locked eyes, "Goodnight, Mulder." Scully said with a smile.

Mulder, as always made note of both their room numbers, 211 and 212, and nodded to her, "Sleep well, Scully."

He turned to unlock his room before, he heard her voice again, "Mulder?"

He turned, something of a serious nature on her face alerted him to be silent so that she could get it out, "Nothing. Goodnight."

He nearly stopped her, did she want to say the same thing he had, was their small moment in the car enough to flare up the state that brought them to nearly kiss in his hall? He had the notion to draw whatever she was going to say out until she closed the door behind her. Even so, he stood outside for a moment, watching the spot where she had just been, questioning himself, considering. His head won over and he entered his own room, threw the suitcase on the bed and sat heavily down, shaking his head.


	8. Mother and Son

**2:46am**

Scully sat cross legged on her hotel room bed, unable to sleep. Her scientific curiosity drove her to the autopsy results, looking for something she may have missed. The quilt that covered the rock hard mattress was a tacky pattern in a faded yellow color. The framed landscapes on the walls were mostly blue as the sun had washed out all of the reds and yellows and the carpet was a dingy tan. Scully was used to rooms like this in old hotels across the lesser traveled parts of the country. This was no tourist town, she thought, and very little reason to impress the people who stayed here, which she imagined were travelers too weary to keep driving through. Instead of dwelling on the seedy condition of her room, she studied the small amount of evidence they had gathered. There was little enough to go on but her apt mind sifted through it, finding the same conclusions as before, or lack thereof. She compared Mulder's theory and still wondered at an explanation for the ability to push time forward more quickly than reality and be able to focus it on one object.

Their only suspect had utterly disappeared, and there was still one victim to go. Somehow, they had to figure out who it might be and when, and therefore, a motive was essential. The motive seemed obvious enough to her, but that brought them no closer to protecting his last victim of the year. Mulder's instincts, which she had come to trust, had no idea where Tribbet might strike again either. She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock at the door.

It was late. Too late for a visit from anyone but Mulder and she smiled. He had proven to be quite the night owl in her years with him and would often be awake until three or four in the morning, even going as far as to take a jog. Cases always wound her partner up when they were in a fog of confusion. In this way, she reminded him very much of Sherlock Holmes, who was unable to rest until he solved the mystery. Stretching the cramps out of her legs, Scully stood, cautious despite her sureness that Mulder was behind the knock, "Who is it?" she asked, hand on the knob, ready to let him in.

"It's Mrs. Tribbet, Agent Scully." Came the voice that fit the name, recognized from their earlier interview, "Bernard contacted me tonight." Scully's heart jolted could this be the break in the case they needed, had it simply fallen into their laps? It would be a rare event, but a welcome one. Scully opened the door immediately but before she could say anything in return a strong force shoved her back through the door and Scully drew in a sharp breath in surprise when her back hit the wall. In that instant, the truth came crashing down on her, like puzzle pieces that suddenly found their place instantly. Mother and son. In the same instant, Barbara Tribbet grabbed Scully's gun from the nightstand and handed it to the tall figure that had forced her back into the dreary hotel room. He pointed it and Scully froze. Barbara Tribbet turned off the lamp, leaving all three of them in the darkness.

She thought about Mulder, so close in the next room and a light sleeper besides. The fact that her voice would wake him and summon him to assist her was almost worth breaking the unspoken rule of not moving or speaking unless asked to when someone pointed a gun. It would be simple, quick, and Mulder was in tuned enough to her to understand that she was in trouble. Maybe he was even still awake. She took a breath…

"Not one sound." A man's voice said, coming into the dim light of the single lamp lit in the room. The dimly lit face was Bernard Tribbet's and Scully felt her stomach turn in panic. Would her body be found like the others, decayed to the point of being unrecognizable? The face softened in horrible pain and he whispered, barely audible, "Diana." The name echoed from him over and over as Scully backed slowly away into the wall, nowhere to go.


	9. Dreams and Reality

**Author's note:** Thanks to those who stuck with me this long and the kind reviews. I hope after this, you still want to continue with the story. It's one of those that you just have to read to the end. Thanks again! Also, thanks to those who are reading it again after the edit. :D

* * *

**8:56am**

Mulder hadn't slept too well, but when he did sleep, he dreamed of he and Scully, outside of the hotel room. This time, he had the balls to do something about it. He stepped near, pulled her close, their eyes locked in understanding and love. He had kissed her then.

Blowing out a breath that was a mixture of frustration and arousal, he set to making two cups of coffee in the little maker that sat on a table in his room. He got dressed in a suit and sprinkled some sugar into his own cup, leaving Scully's alone. The Styrofoam cups were warm in his hands as he backed out of the room, intent on rousing his partner along with a peace offering of coffee for waking her up. Normally it was the other way around and Scully would be the one with coffee acting as an alarm clock. He was a little proud of the fact that today that he could return the favor. There had been no calls in the night either, so, more than likely, Tribbet had not struck again. It also meant that he had not been arrested, but Mulder decided to look past that. The important thing was, no one else was dead. On top of it, he had made the promise to himself not to chicken out again. If Scully gave him an inch, he would take it, and perhaps more. All in all, it was a good morning for Fox Mulder.

With the toe of his foot, dexterous even in black wingtips, he closed his own door behind him. A plump hotel maid connected with his eyes on her way past and he wished her a good morning. That was before he saw Scully's red door ajar.

He took in the small detail of the door and wondered. It was odd for Scully to be so careless, but it didn't mean anything…yet. The room gave it all away. Her bag had been rifled through, its contents dumped unceremoniously onto the carpeted floor. The smell of rot and death was heavy and sickening. He didn't remember putting the coffee down, but he must have, for as he looked around anxiously, he saw the two cups sitting on the inside window ledge.

"Scully?" The name came out weakly.

He moved quickly, pulling out his gun and searching the room and finding what he dreaded most. Wearing the same clothes that he had last seen her in, her hair as auburn as it had been in life, if dulled, her body lay at his feet. There was no doubt of who did this, the body was in the same condition as the other victims in the case; decomposed beyond possibility. A mere eight hours ago, she had been alive, it was unthinkable to find her as if she had been dead for months. His world began to disassemble in that moment. He could only breathe out, air refused to fill his lungs. There was nothing he could do, no steps of prevention and nothing to stop. It was done, "Scully." He breathed. Autopilot took over and his investigative brain told him to leave the room. Shakily, he took the phone and called Skinner. Why Skinner, he was not sure.

"Skinner." came the familiar voice. At least he didn't have to go through channels like a secretary; Skinner had given the pair of X-Files Agents a direct number in the recent months.

"Sir," Mulder began, but it was a long moment before he spoke again. Skinner stayed silent, hearing the urgency in his voice, "I need a team down here now. Scully-" He stopped short and heard the Assistant Director's voice again, more urgently now.

"What is it, Agent Mulder?"

"She's dead. Murdered." Mulder bit his tongue hard, unwilling to sob so that Skinner could hear, "At the Winston Hotel just outside of Arcadia Indiana." He hung up, not trusting his ability to hold a conversation any longer. Mulder didn't know what to do with his hands or feet. A thousand memories flashed in his mind; From Scully walking confidentially into his office and telling him that she looked forward to working with him, and their conversation in his hotel room on their first case together to her taking his hand, her face frost bitten but determined as she declared her resolve to stay with him despite all of the danger they had faced in Antarctica and to their small but meaningful conversation the previous night as they held hands.

He knew Skinner would call the local police and that he would not be alone here for long. He took this as an opportunity to weep, his back against her door, his teeth clenched in anguish.


	10. Revenge

**9:39am**

Police and Crime Scene Investigators bustled around Mulder as he sat on the red-orange steps leading from the first floor to the second. Everyone walked around him, left him alone instinctively as he stared into nothing, unmoving. He knew he was probably in the way. It didn't matter. Mulder watched the lights on the police vehicles flashing for something to concentrate on, attempting to ignore the crime scene just feet away. If he thought too hard about it, focused on the fact that Scully was gone, he would break down again. He knew that he should leave and go to the police station, he was too close to the case and being there provided nothing but he couldn't bring himself to abandon the last place Scully had been alive.

"Agent Mulder." It was Dotson, his voice soft and understanding, "I need to get your statement, Agent Mulder."

Mulder appreciated the officer keeping on task rather than acknowledging the fact that his partner had died and nodded, "After we left the station last night, we arrived here after one. I went into my room, Agent Scully into hers." This was the part Mulder was ashamed of the most, "I didn't hear or see anything. When I came out this morning at about nine, I found the scene." Mulder couldn't bring himself to say he had found the body, it was too much too soon, "Barbara Tribbet had to be involved. Bernard Tribbet's mother, Scully and I went to question her yesterday."

Dotson nodded, "I remember. You said she provided the photograph."

"Yeah." Mulder confirmed, "She must have told Bernard and they must have followed us here from the station." He theorized. It was the only way they could have known where he and Scully were staying and which room to go to.

"There is no sign of a break-in, Mulder." Dotson told him, "We think, whoever came in, Agent Scully opened the door for them."

"She wouldn't have opened it for Bernard Tribbet, so it had to be Barbara." Mulder repeated, "She must have told Scully that she had information on her son."

"Why wouldn't Agent Scully have contacted you at that point?"

"He must have been there too, she never got the chance. Once the door was open, they didn't need to keep up the charade."

Dotson nodded, "I think that's about all we need, Agent Mulder. According to the Assistant Director that called us this morning, there will be an FBI Crime Scene Team here within the next hour. We got you another hotel-"

"I'll go to the station. I want to see the autopsy results when the FBI performs it."

* * *

**12:59pm**

Mulder sat on a steel chair in the morgue of the local hospital his red eyes staring forward. It was a white hall that echoed every sound, but now it was silent. Since there were no facilities for forensic investigation, the FBI pathologist had to use what the morgue. This would be the first full autopsy performed on the recent victims of Bernard Tribbet. Scully hadn't had time to get the results back for a toxicological screening or be as detailed as she normally was before the second body had been found. There just had not been time to finish the first autopsy and perform the second. Mulder never guessed that his partner would not be the one to perform it, however, but be the one under the scalpel. Biting the inside of his mouth, he turned his thoughts to other things. Bernard Tribbet, for instance.

Mulder's blood heated and his heart began to pump furiously. Bernard Tribbet was his new project, his new target and Mulder intended to hit his target head on with no mercy. He would not be bringing Tribbet in alive, he vowed. For once, he didn't care about an explanation of how Tribbet could advance the decomposition process, all he wanted was revenge. He felt his teeth grinding and breathed slowly to calm himself down.

He heard footsteps and his hazel eyes turned up to see Assistant Director Skinner striding purposefully toward him. He stood in greeting, but said nothing.

"I'm very sorry, Agent Mulder." Skinner said. Skinner's tone rarely changed from the rigid and deep tone that Mulder knew so well. Usually, no matter what was being said, Skinner kept the strictest manner, but now, his voice yielded to reveal sorrow. There was something else, though, "You have been ordered back to Washington, Mulder. It's felt that your judgment may be affected by personal loss."

Mulder was about to interrupt, about to argue, fight if he had to, but Skinner put his hand up to halt him, "I told them you would be on the first plane tomorrow morning." It was permission of sorts and it gave Mulder less than twenty four hours to find Bernard Tribbet.

"Thank you, sir." Was all he could think to say.

Skinner motioned for Mulder to follow and began heading down the hall, "I was told you would know where to start."

Mulder eyes softened, Skinner was not only allowing him to work on the case, he was planning on helping him. Or possibly keeping him in check. Either way, Mulder appreciated the support, "Sir," He said, stopping Skinner from moving any further, "I just wanted to see the preliminary autopsy report." Mulder said. He wasn't sure why it was so important, but he needed to stay, just for a little while to see it. Perhaps he was still in some sort of denial and needed proof that Scully truly was gone.

That's when the door opened and a tall man in scrubs approached them with his findings, "Agent Mulder?"

Mulder turned to attention and nodded, "Yeah."

"My initial findings were the same as Agent Sc-," he cut himself off, "Were as expected. The decomposition is natural as far as I can tell. Here is the initial blood work." He handed Mulder the sheet and the Agent took it greedily. His hazel eyes scanned the page and went wide. He saw something everyone else had missed and it nearly drove the breath from him.


	11. Not and XFile

"It's not her." Mulder whispered.

"What?" Skinner's hard voice had returned with skepticism, but had Mulder heard some hope in there as well?

"It's not Scully." Mulder said, louder, surer. Mulder was suddenly so elated that he almost laughed, "Her blood type is AB negative. This blood is O." He proclaimed. Everything fell together, "He kidnaps his victims, keeps them awhile, and then kills them. Several months go by before he starts the pattern again, but he leaves the body of a previous victim in place of the woman he has taken." He explained, "None of these bodies belong to the women we think they do. Scully might still be alive." He said, this being the most important point of the discovery. His elation left him as soon as it had come in the realization that Scully would die if they didn't find Bernard Tribbet very soon, "We have to get back to Barbara Tribbet's trailer." He said, and thankfully, Skinner simply nodded and pulled out his car keys.

Skinner sped as much as Mulder might have given the situation and Mulder no longer regretted allowing him to drive. With several agents and officer following, he was confident that if Scully were there, they would be able to pull off a simple maneuver with little risk to any of them.

The car skidded to a halt in the muddy ground and Mulder wasted no time in jumping out of the car, hardly even waited for the backups to rush up behind him.

* * *

**Two Hours Earlier**

Creaking. Voices. Muffled. Pain. Blur. As Scully's vision came into focus, all of these sensations magnified. She was on her back. The ground was hard. Her head pounded. Her senses took in a little information at a time as reality came alive around her. Her body convulsed into a cough as she pushed her torso off the ground with her elbows. One thing she realized; she was alive. This in itself amazed her. After seeing Bernard Tribbet force his way into her hotel room the previous night, she thought that she'd never wake up. Memories returned in full detail. A dark hotel room. Her back had hit the wall and she knew it was now or never. It was very dark, Scully could attack and hope to have darkness on her side. Crouching low, she had gone for Bernard Tribbet's midsection. None of the victims had been shot, and she was surely dead if she did nothing. Instead of using the gun, as Scully had anticipated, he dodged and used her own force to throw her face first onto the bed. He had attacked then, using his superior weight to hold her down while a musty rag with the familiar smell of chloroform covered half of her face. The rag was soaked and she had little choice but to breathe it in, struggling all the while.

"We can't have you harming yourself." The male voice sounded too close to her ear.

She had known she had about a minute but with both sets of hands holding her as still as possible while she couldn't take in any air, she didn't stand a chance. She had dimly wondered if it would truly be her last moment of consciousness.

Scully took in her surroundings, cold dirt beneath her and stone all around. It was an old cellar but it was far too dark to see much else and she suddenly realized how Bernard Tribbet was able to make things decompose without explanation. This was no X-File, but just a clever trick to throw off police. Right now, her own room was occupied by a dead body that was not her own, but by all outward appearances was hers. Whoever it was, most likely one of the previous victims, had been made to look like her and was right now probably fooling a lot of people. She imagined Tribbet making up a body to appear like the current missing person, she imagined him dying the hair on the fetid corpse and instantly, her mind filled with visions of Donald Pfaster. This was just far too close.

When her eyes somewhat adjusted to the darkness, she found suddenly that she was not alone, which made perfect sense. The two women were both asleep, or appeared to be asleep, curled up on the floor a few feet away. It was too dark to tell much else. Scully moved to get nearer when she found that her ankle was literally shackled to a heating grate. How medieval, she thought soberly, fingering the thick metal chain, "Hey." She called softly, hoping to only rouse the people in the room with her. A girl with tussled blonde hair, presumably Samantha Gayton, woke suddenly and moved into a defensive position.

"It's alright." Scully assured her and the girl seemed to relax when she realized that she would not be receiving cruelty. Scully could see very clearly that she had received cruel treatment; her body was covered in bruises and her lip was bloody and swollen. She wore a faded violet dress and her feet were bare. "Are you Samantha Gayton?"

Samantha nodded her head, vigorously, relieved to be recognized, "He keeps calling me Samantha O'Connell."

Scully motioned with her chin toward the other woman, "Is she alright?"

Samantha shook her head, "The last time he came down here, he let her have it pretty good. She hasn't woken up since, no matter what I do."

Things just kept getting worse, "How often does he come down?" Scully asked, trying to think on her feet and keep cool.

"A lot. Every few hours I think." Samantha told her, "How'd you know my name?"

"I'm an agent with the FBI, we were investigating your murder-disappearance." Scully corrected quickly.

"There was a body down here when I first woke up. It was awful and stank, it had probably been down here for years."

"Just about one year." Scully told her, knowing that this was the very body that replaced her in the hotel room. Mulder would figure it out. He had to. Her medical records were accessible and soon, they would figure out that the body didn't match her.

"Are you gonna get us outta here?" Samantha asked, "Are you undercover or something?"

Scully wanted to scoff. If she were undercover, there would be police all over the place right now, "No." She said, simply, "But, I am going to try and get us out of here. I need you to stay calm no matter what though, okay?"

Samantha nodded and Scully hoped that she had a level-headed ally, "I need you to tell me what you know. Is there an entrance, more than one? Do you have any idea where we are? Is he armed?"

"The door is over there, we're in a cellar as far as I can tell. There is a big heavy wooden door and a staircase over there, but it's too dark to see until he opens it." She said, pointing, "He didn't have one before, but last night, he came down with a gun. That's when he wailed on

Elise. Her name is Elise."

Scully nodded, "It's my gun." She said, pointlessly. They both heard a noise above them, footsteps, Scully thought. Samantha cowered and Scully had the urge to do the same.

Instead, she stood, wanting to face whatever would come on her feet instead of cringing like a dog, despite being chained up like one. The door unlocked and Scully saw the staircase that Samantha had mentioned as light streamed into the cellar. The stairs whined under the weight of

Bernard Tribbet and when he finally reached the bottom,

Samantha screamed.


	12. Close But Far Away

As much as she could, Scully put herself between Tribbet and Samantha. Elise was too far away to attempt to protect and Scully couldn't see her breathing.

"Diana Rubles." Tribbet whispered, his eyes traveling over her, making Scully's skin crawl. Scully had noted some time ago that she was no longer wearing her own clothing. Instead she found herself in a pair of ill-fitting jeans and a dark blue cotton long sleeved shirt with a v-neck. Her feet were bare. The clothes were freshly washed, she could tell, but they appeared old and very used. Scully could only guess that they were once worn by Diana Rubles.

"My name is Dana Scully." She said clearly, "I am not Diana, Bernard." Even as she spoke, the similar names were obvious, but she stuck to her statement, "You're not getting revenge on someone who broke your heart by killing us, Bernard. We are not the same women who hurt you." Her heart pumped furiously in her chest, but she kept her breathing even, "Elise needs a doctor, Bernard."

"You won't get out of this, Diana. You haven't changed at all, always trying to get out of an argument by making some shit up. I won't fall for it anymore." He growled, pacing furiously, "This time, it's your heart that will be broken after I tear it from your chest."

Scully swallowed, able see that this was not likely to get them anywhere but she had no other tactic. The only way to keep Tribbet from harming them was to convince him that they were not the women he hated, "Bernard, I'm not Diana." She repeated, looking around now for a weapon. Obviously, he was not going to be reasoned with and force would be in order, if she could manage it. There was nothing to grab but this did come as a surprise.

"Shut up!" Bernard screeched through clenched teeth, "I'm not here for you yet, Diana. Your turn will come."

Getting his meaning, Samantha's panicked eyes instantly shot to Scully and Scully met them guiltily. There was very little Scully could do to stop any assault Bernard was planning on Samantha, but the agent had no plans on being idle. Bernard did not notice their exchange and approached Samantha.

"No, Bernard, stop." Scully pleaded, "She is not who you think either."

"I said shut up!" He turned on Scully unexpectedly and furiously, whirling around and pulling out her FBI issued pistol with amazing speed and belting her across the face. Scully felt her head spin at the blow and she staggered back, grasping for anything that might help keep her on her feet. Bernard wasn't done, however and she felt the metal object connect with her head again, this time, her world blacked out.


	13. Pacing

**1:54pm**

Scully woke with a start. The cellar was quiet again, dark, and getting chilly. When she sat up, everything spun and pain shot from her head down her spine. Her hand gingerly touched the back of her head and came back bloody. Waiting for the pounding to ease, she was still until she heard Samantha's voice, "Dana."

Scully turned toward her and winced at her appearance.

Samantha's face was more bruised and one of her eyes was swollen shut. Scully shook her head and sighed regretfully.

"He hit you?" Scully asked.

"Yeah, once, then he left." Samantha told her, "When he came down again Elise woke up and he took her upstairs."

Scully's heart pumped furiously. Who knew what happened when he took someone upstairs. Suddenly, the cellar seemed like an oasis in which Scully did not want to leave. Surely he had taken her to hurt her or kill her and there was nothing they could do to stop him, "How long has she been gone?"

"I don't know, maybe two or three hours," Samantha informed her, her voice shaking, "She just started groaning, but didn't really talk. She asked for water, but couldn't say much else. When he saw her awake, he dragged her upstairs." Scully had nothing, no plan, no way to keep them from being murdered at Bernard Tribbet's hands, but she was not about to let it happen easily. Even if they died, she planned to go out fighting.

A couple of hours later, when the door opened and the light poured in, Scully knew that she was about to get the chance to go out fighting. Swallowing, she knew it was better to appear weak in order to have some element of surprise. She wasn't sure how much she would have to act, however, her body felt so shaky, she wondered if she could make her death that much of a struggle for him. To her surprise, he made a beeline for her and not Samantha. It was now her turn, as he had put it, but she tried not to resist as his hands reached for her face. No matter how much she wanted his clammy hands far away, she had to appear too injured to defy him. He lifted her face to his own as he appeared to drink in her image with relish. His face drew closer and, in spite of her determination not to resist, Scully turned away.

This seemed to infuriate him and he took a handful of her hair to turn her face back to his, "Diana." He said in a warning tone.

"Dana." Scully argued, once again, going against her plan to appear weak. The grip on her hair tightened and pulled back and Scully groaned as the ache from the blow of her pistol flared up again.

"It's your turn, Diana."

* * *

**3:39pm**

Mulder had not sat still and in the small office of the police station, this was an irritation to everyone around. His tie was loosened and his hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it several times every minute. He had stripped the case bare, looking into every family member, previous addresses, cars, jobs, banks, and anything else he could think to look into. There were office personnel looking into medical records and loan history to see if he had a doctor's appointment or purchased a mobile home or boat in which he might use as a hiding place. The thing everyone had found the most difficult was to track down the original women after which Bernard modeled his victims.

The first women to disappear were unknown as Bernard must have used their bodies to disguise his second kidnappings. The police had a list of missing persons and had found some promising leads on women who disappeared one year before the first bodies were discovered, but that didn't mean that they belonged to Bernard's girlfriends. They could still be randomly chosen victims with names similar to the focus of Bernard's hatred. Pictures offered some assistance and at least one had been positively identified but Elsie Roan could not be reached yet.

After several pacing passes, Skinner stood and advised Mulder to sit down, "You need to calm down, Agent Mulder. Everything that can be done is being done."

"It won't be enough." Mulder rebutted.

"Pacing is not getting you any closer." Skinner pointed out.

"What about 911 calls?" Mulder asked, suddenly getting an idea, "We'll need to monitor. If Scully can reach a phone, we'll need to be ready to trace it fast."

"It's already been done, Mulder. They are on high alert." Skinner informed him, "Don't make me regret not putting you on an earlier flight."

That seemed to hush Mulder but Skinner wasn't finished, "I know you're upset, Mulder, but no one here will rest until we find them."

Mulder gave the Assistant Director a small nod, "If it takes too long, they'll find them dead." Mulder had seen the more complete autopsy reports, however, and evidence suggested that each victim had been kept alive for some time. Kept alive for the sole purpose of pleasing Bernard Tribbet. Mulder's skin crawled.


	14. 911

Author's note: I love a good Scully fight where she tosses around goons twice her size. As my favorite reviewer said "She can be very spry and aggressive when she needs to be". I hope you enjoy this installment and reviews are like little slices of cheesecake (for those who like cheesecake)!

* * *

A key flashed in Bernard's hand and he pushed into the shackle that held Scully to the grate. Scully was hauled to her feet and she willed herself to remain limp and frail, but felt adrenaline course through her, backing up all of the training she had in hand to hand combat. She guessed that, caught unaware, Bernard had little chance against her, but she would bide her time for now. Scully wanted them away from Samantha, did not want to have to protect the girl as she attempted to fight off Tribbet. She could easily see any fight ending with Samantha's death and would need to wait until they were upstairs. This also saved her the energy of having to rush up the stairs to reach a phone or her gun, which she noted that Bernard did not bring this time. The waiting was agony, especially as his arms wrapped around her, not tenderly by any means, but controlling. She knew what would follow; Bernard had made it fairly obvious. She was no longer a person in his eyes, but property to be enjoyed at his leisure or experiment on for his entertainment. This was not unusual with serial killers and their victims; a killer would often treat his dogs better than his prey. The victim was seen as an object and Scully was finding herself in that position with Bernard Tribbet.

Scully allowed it for now; soon, she would get the better of him and free herself, Samantha, and Elise if she could. As they scaled the stairs, Scully imagined her first action, imagined how she would efficiently disable Bernard Tribbet, and planned each step in her mind so that nothing would go wrong. The cellar door opened and Scully's eyes shied away from the brightness. Once she adjusted and they were on level ground, she thought, it would be time. She heard the cellar door close behind them, knowing that it now left Samantha alone in the dark.

Blinking away the sudden blindness, Scully planted her feet on cold tile floor and pushed off, shoving her weight into Bernard and elbowing him in the sternum. Not expecting such an attack and caught off balance, he staggered backwards and Scully threw a right hook into his nose. He grunted and she heard the full weight of his heavy body hit the wooden cellar door. This was the first really good look she had gotten of him besides the photograph. His mouth was twisted and all of his features were far too small. He was muscular and tall, blonde and freckled. His arms were thick and his legs looked strong. She was glad that she had attacked before seeing how large he was because she may have lost her nerve.

He was up in an instant charging for her in fury, but Scully was ready for him. Using the same trick he had, she used his own weight to dodge neatly and slam his head into the counter. This made her realize that she was in a kitchen of a house. Not taking the time to look at details, she rushed for a random drawer and found what she had been hoping would be there. Turning quickly, she wielded the knife defensively, but Bernard had not gotten up. Scully knew better than to trust it and quickly grabbed a dish towel that was sitting on the white stove and tied the unconscious Bernard's hands as tightly as she could behind his back.

Catching her breath and feeling nausea rise up as her head injury argued with the physical exertion, Scully knew she could not rest long. Fighting the urge to leave the house, she searched for a phone, knowing that Elise and Samantha would certainly be killed if she abandoned them. The Academy taught them that instincts would attempt to take over, that fear would rule your actions to save yourself unless you trained them to act rationally and to act on behalf of others. Right now, Scully's instincts screamed for her to flee, to run for her life and never look back. Trained as she was, however, it was never even a consideration.

The house was obviously old and had not been lived in by a normal person in years. There was dust everywhere and the clutter of a condemned home. A yellow phone sat on a wooden table in the next room but Scully did not allow herself to hope or relax just yet. What if the phone was not working? Holding her breath, she picked up the receiver and found the blessed dial tone that made her gasp out a sigh of relief. The first number she dialed was Mulder's, and it had not rung yet before she realized that he would have no way of finding her. It was her head, she thought to herself, she was not thinking clearly. She hung up and called 911.

4:23pm

Skinner had finally gotten Mulder to stop pacing, but he still looked ready to pull out his own hair. The Assistant Director didn't have the heart to send Mulder home, not yet anyway. There was still a lot of hope, and Mulder would not react well if he was asked to leave in the middle of everything. He wished Mulder would offer the same respect in return and try to see what Skinner had to go through to get him the small window of time that he had. He too, cared for and worried about Agent Scully, but he could not allow that to get in the way of their jobs, their jobs that could save lives.

Mulder could feel his rationality ebbing away and it was a battle to remain lucid and calm. He wanted to throw things or hit someone and he knew his frustration would keep building to the point where Skinner would have no choice but to order him back to his hotel room. It was a waiting game, one that, with enough time passage, Mulder would lose. In every other instance, Mulder could face things with a composure that surprised even Scully, who was nearly as unflappable as he was. The only thing that seemed able to make him go crazy was Scully. If she were in danger or hurt, Mulder couldn't seem to think straight. He knew that Skinner was right and it made him less useful, less reliable, and less effective, but he could hardly help it. It made him both ashamed at his lack of functionality and at peace with the sureness of how he felt for her. She was the only one who could affect him so that he was unable to reason, unable to use the mental resources that came naturally to him. All he could do was agonize.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Skinner," It was Dotson who now leaned into the office after opening the door, "We've got a 911. It's confirmed to be Agent Scully."


	15. Too Late?

The moment Mulder heard her name, he was running to the operating room. Phone systems were set up and several people were on headsets, taking calls. One young man had several people standing around him and Mulder trotted toward him, "You have Agent Scully on the line?"

The man nodded, "We're doing a trace as fast as we can." He told him, seeing the desperation and hearing the edginess in Mulder, "Two people are injured, but she says she has Tribbet incapacitated."

Without asking, Mulder forcefully took the headset off of the young man's head and put it on, "Scully?"

Scully's voice came back surprised, "Mulder?"

"Are you hurt?" He asked, his breath coming short in a mix of relief and anxiety and his heart pounding in his chest.

"I'm fine. Tribbet is down, but we need an ambulance. Elise VanDuran and Samantha Gayton are here as well. Samantha should be alright, but he took Elise some time ago and I haven't seen her since."

Mulder had heard 'I'm fine' before, so he took it with a grain of salt. The good news was that Bernard was down and Scully was well enough to have fought him and call 911. "There will be help on the way as soon as this trace is complete." He told her, glancing back as the numbers came up slowly, one by one.

"It's a house, it looks as if it's off the road and in a wooded area," Scully reported, and Mulder could hear her voice shaking, "I need to find Elise VanDuran, she may be injured somewhere in the house."

"Stay on the phone, Scully. The EMT will check her out when they get there." He warned, his tone urgent. Right now, this was his only connection with Scully whom he thought he lost, he was not willing to let her go, "The trace is almost done."

"Mulder-", He heard her begin on the other end, but a gunshot sounded and cut off her next words. Mulder tensed, "Scully?" He ventured, "What happened?"

"Hang up the phone." It was Barbara Tribbet's voice, it sounded small from Mulder's end, but Mulder had understood. Bernard's mother had Scully's gun.

* * *

The familiar form of Barbara Tribbet faced Scully, wielding the gun. Scully noted that she was wearing exactly the same thing she had been the day before. Scully knew damn well that if she hung up the phone that she, Samantha, and Elise would die here today. She could hear Mulder calling her name in the receiver and wanted so badly to answer. The connection was her only life line and the trace was essential to their survival. Defensively, she held up the knife, but it was only an instinctual move, she knew that it would not be able to combat a gun. She had to distract Barbara from the phone and swallowed hard before speaking, "Your son is injured, Mrs. Tribbet. He needs an ambulance." Scully hoped that it was true, hoped that Bernard Tribbet was too wounded to move. Barbara took her eyes from Scully for a moment and that was the opportunity to set the phone down with hanging it up.

"Where is he!?" Her voice came out as a screech and Scully pointed into the kitchen, hoping to distract her enough to get out of gun range. Barbara was not as stupid as Scully had hoped, however, and she kept the gun trained on Scully's head. "Untie him now."

Bernard was hardly in need of an ambulance as Scully had hoped he might be and was struggling against the towel that bound him. Just a few more seconds, Scully thought, and the trace would be complete. She knelt down and worked at Bernard's hands. He was coming out of his head injury now, swearing and yelling at Scully as she did it, promising that she would regret ever hitting him. When it was loose enough, Bernard pulled his hands free and stood, towering over Scully. He grabbed at her wrist, twisting until she had to let go of the knife. She wanted to call to Mulder, but had to let the phone go ignored.

"Leave us, Mother." Bernard commanded as he swiped a hard back hand across Scully's face.

There.

That was enough time, the trace would be complete by now and help would be on the way. Would it be too late?

* * *

"Scully? Scully!" Mulder called until he heard her again, but this time she was addressing Bernard's mother, who presumably had the gun. She was stalling, he realized and then Barbara screamed at Scully to release him. Bernard's voice became clear now, clear and furious. He heard shuffling and small sounds of distress coming from Scully then Bernard again.

"Leave us, Mother."

No! Mulder resisted the urge to call out again, his eyes glued to the screen of appearing numbers until the last one popped up.

"We got it!" came the young man's voice from whom Mulder had stolen his head set. Mulder had to tear himself from the sounds coming from his head set. They were sounds of a struggle. Bernard's voice grunted and growled in rage and Scully voice sounded in defensive exertion. He heard something crash like glass and Scully moan as if the wind had been driven from her before a dial tone sounded on the other end. Mulder threw off the headset as the address was handed off to Skinner. They both ran toward his car with several agents and officer hot on their heels. Would they be too late?


	16. Reunited

Author's note: A lot happens in this chapter. Reviews are like little bits of chocolate, so please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

* * *

In this round, Scully found herself on defense and lost the advantage of surprise she had with Bernard when she had attacked him the first time. She was far more controlled, she thought, as Bernard's fury made him swipe and lunge clumsily. He was over a foot taller and far heavier so it was hardly an even match. Scully had dodged his attacks to the end of the line; Barbara was standing between her and Bernard, holding the gun. Scully had nowhere to go and prepared for Bernard's weight. It came full and fast as he shoved Scully into the kitchen wall, driving the breath from her and causing a picture to fall to the floor and break.

"I told you to go, Mother." Bernard said while Scully fought to draw in air. Finally she gasped in a breath and kicked at Bernard, hitting his shin. He snarled and flinched, but did not let go. Slamming her into the wall again, he hissed, "Hold still." His fingers dug into her arms as he held them at her sides.

"She called the police, Bernard." Barbara warned, having just hung up the phone, "They will be coming here now. We should kill them and run."

"Get the car, Mother."

* * *

Their drive was not short enough for Mulder who barely waited for the car to halt before exiting and charging toward the old house in the middle of the woods. Skinner was just behind him, he knew and, with both of their guns drawn, Mulder kicked in the door. Skinner, ever reliable, went into FBI pose, their training taking over and the muscle memory taking them easily through the steps to make sure the space was clear before moving on. Even Mulder, who was so desperate to search the house, knew that a wrong move could get him killed and was controlled as they moved forward. More officers poured into the house, securing it. They numbered about eight, with three FBI agents and five police officers. Mulder knew more were on the way, as an alert had been called for on-duty officers to assist. Even with just eight, they could take the house easily. He heard the typical shouts, "Police!" as they efficiently made their way through.

They reached the dingy kitchen and Mulder saw the state of it. It was not too discernible from the rest of the rundown house, but the broken picture, the footprints in the dust, and little droplets of blood were all fresh.

"HELP!" The voice was muffled, but every officer and agent froze. Mulder was closest to the cellar door and, still holding his gun, he pulled open the latch.

"Over here!" He called and was surrounded by officers pointing guns into the dark pit that served as a cellar. It was old fashioned and the door was slanted toward the floor. The stairs were rickety and Mulder took them first, "Are you alone?" Mulder called as his heart sank, he already knew the voice that called for help was not Scully's.

"Yes," came the panting feminine voice, "Please help me."

The EMT's, who were far behind the first cavalry entering the house, were summoned. Mulder was relieved to find the girl in decent shape, but his stomach churned at the fact that she was the only one found.

"There were three of us, "the young woman was saying, "He-"

Mulder interrupted her, "Where are the others? Where is Bernard Tribbet?"

"He took Elise upstairs first a few hours ago, then Dana a little while ago. I heard a gunshot and fighting and then it went quiet."

Mulder found Skinner's eyes and passed him to get out of the cellar. Gun still poised, he continued his search, looking with a keener eye than anyone had yet. He caught sight of a patio leading out into the forest and did not hesitate. Passing the officers who had already secured the rest of the house, he quietly made his way outside. Trotting cautiously, he followed the clearest path deeper into the woods.

"Skinner!" He called, an odd feeling compelling him forward.

* * *

Skinner felt the same disappointment that Mulder did as he too scaled the uneven steps back to the kitchen. He didn't hear Mulder's call, only the shouting and gunshots from the front of the house reached him. Something was happening outside and Skinner broke into a run through the kitchen and back out in front of the house to see what the two officers who had been left outside were yelling about. A brown jeep flew past the shots and careened down the dirt road from which they had all come, racing toward the main road.

"Mulder!" Skinner shouted, sure that Bernard Tribbet and

Scully were very likely in the escaping vehicle. There could be no hesitation to wait for Mulder and he jumped into his car to give chase, several officers did the same, sure they were trailing their target. The back-up was redirected to intercept the jeep as Skinner floored his gas pedal spraying dirt and leaves behind his car.

He heard the sirens just to his left and saw the jeep veer right. It would be a chase for sure, but the end result would be the same. Bernard Tribbet was not likely to get too far.

* * *

Mulder crept through the forest, his shoes making an unfortunate crunching noise on dry leaves and twigs as he went and his black coat billowing behind him in the brisk autumn air. He was no tracker, but the forest floor seemed to have been recently upset. The mud from the rain definitely left the ground soft enough for walking impressions and he could discern a few footprints. He followed, more quickly now, going deeper into the woods. The sunlight shone through almost directly in front of him, creating a silhouette of the trees. Had he not been in a life or death situation, he may have actually noticed and admired the sunset. He spotted a very clear print of a bare foot. It was small and he knew that it was a woman's. This drove him on even faster and he barely wondered why Skinner had not come out when he called to him. His head snapped to his left when he heard a bumping sound, quiet, but insistent. He rushed toward the sound, his stomach turning at the sight of what looked like a fresh grave.

* * *

Scully felt the mud and dirt on her feet and the grip that Bernard had on the back of her neck as she concentrated on walking forward. Every time she slowed down too much, Bernard would deal her another blow. The exertion was not too much for her, but Bernard was in a panic and she never seemed to be going fast enough. The gun was always present, either at her temple or pushed into her ribcage. It was obvious that the police had arrived sometime after they began to run away from the house. Shouts, cars, and even gunshots were heard in the distance, but she and Bernard had a big head start.

Bernard grabbed a handful of hair and yanked back, stopping her, "Here it is."

Scully could see nothing until they got closer. A very fresh hole in the ground had been recently filled in and Scully's mind flew to Elise. Bernard seemed to ignore that, though and continued past. He pulled open a door that she didn't know had been there to reveal a dark space beneath the ground. It must have been an old storm shelter but it was so concealed and well camouflaged that she would never have spotted it with the naked eye.

Bernard forced her inside and pulled out a flashlight. Scully glanced around, now sure that it had been a storm shelter with concrete walls and a smooth concrete floor. Primitive, but potentially comfortable, it felt more like a grave under the circumstances. There was almost nothing inside the little den except a small cot and two gas lamps and Scully saw red stains here and there whenever the light moved close enough to the floor. This was where the women were murdered she realized and watched a mental image of her time running out in an hourglass. She would not make it easy for him.

To her surprise, Bernard left out the same way they had come, closing and locking the door and leaving her in the dark. After a few moments, when she was sure he was not going to return right away, she allowed her cool façade to drop and took a moment to catch her breath and assess her situation. Feeling uneasily around, she made her way back to the door. Pushing upward, she found it locked as expected. She kept at it, pounding on the door with her palms. The worst that could happen was Bernard abusing her some more, which was bound to happen anyway. If she could get out, he may not come back in time to catch her.

"Scully?" A low voice sounded.

Impossibly, it was Mulder's voice, stifled by the door, but clearly her partner, "Mulder!" She exclaimed, banging on the door, "I'm in here!"

Mulder found the door easily with Scully's voice and the drumming sound to guide him, "Scully!" He could scarcely grasp that just a few hours ago, he thought her dead, and now he was hearing her familiar voice once again. He found the padlock that kept Scully inside what he guessed was a storm shelter, and gave it a pull before realizing that he would probably have to shoot it to open it, "Scully, get back."

"Mulder, Tribbet's out there." She warned him, stepping back, expecting a gunshot.

Instead, she heard a loud thump and then a hollow sound as if some weight had just been dropped onto the door. Silence followed and she ventured, "Mulder?"

A grunt was followed by a scraping and the clanging of metal and the padlock clicked open. The doors burst open, but instead of Mulder, Bernard Tribbet stood in the entrance. He had a bat in his hand. Tossing it on the soft ground, she saw him drag Mulder's limp body to the doorway and shove him inside. He fell in a heap, face up at her feet. Scully knelt beside him instantly, checking his vitals, "Mulder?" His pulse was strong beneath her fingertips as they pressed against his neck while her other hands stroked his forehead. The click of a cocking gun made her look up.


	17. In Hell

Author's note: I know this one is fairly short, but the ending packed too good a punch not to leave it at that. Also, you'll notice that these last few chapters are where the 'angst' comes in on the subject line. I hope it doesn't go too far for you. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

* * *

"Get back." Bernard commanded, his gun trained between Scully's eyes. Reluctant to move away from the injured Mulder, she glared up at him until the gun moved to point at Mulder's face. Scully did as he bid then, unwilling to allow her partner be shot. Bernard reached up and pulled a duffle bag and wooden bat from the surface. He closed the door after bringing it inside and Scully mused that he must have several places in this wooded area to hide things. She watched the bat, imagining herself grabbing for it and beating Bernard Tribbet bloody. She at least took solace in the fact that the welt on his forehead from when she threw him into the counter was swollen and bleeding. The flashlight glared on once again and Bernard pulled out a rope and tossed it at Scully, "Tie him. Tie his legs and put his hands behind him. If he gets out of it, I'll blow his head off." With a last glance at the bat and the gun so steadily pointed at her, she picked up the rope.

Bernard's words were a warning to make sure she did not purposefully tie Mulder so poorly that he could escape. She knew they were both going to die here either way but only nodded and proceeded to do as commanded as Bernard lit the gas lamps. She pulled Mulder's ankles closer to her and began to wrap the rope, being as gentle as possible. Mulder was no fool Scully thought, he wouldn't make a move with a gun pointed at him or if it would cause either of their deaths. Turning him on his side, she worked on his hands, making sure the rope would chafe as little as possible. She made sure the knots looked secure. With Bernard's direction, Mulder's bound hands were eventually tied to his bound feet, so that both curled behind him.

"Now, wake him up."

Hatred seethed in Scully's blood, but she dare not give it away, "Mulder." She said softly, brushing his face gently, "Wake up, Mulder." She closed her blue eyes tightly, fighting off the urge to break down. What was he doing here alone, she wondered, and how had he known to go into the forest? Had Barbara's decoy not worked? Her chest ached to see him in this state and she reminded herself that she was not in a better one.

Once again, Mulder could hear Scully's voice, summoning him. He would go to her, he would always, forever. He would follow her voice anywhere and know it if he didn't hear it for a hundred years. Even the tone was familiar; he must be at a hospital and she was by his side, making sure he got well again. What had happened? His head hurt and he remembered the blow from behind. Somehow, Skinner must have found them and Scully was safe here with him. His hazel eyes opened eagerly, wanting to see Scully, wanting to see her smile at the fact that he was awake. Something was not right. It was far too dark to be a hospital and he seemed to be on the ground. His limbs refused to move from their uncomfortable position. It was then that he realized, they were still in Hell.


	18. Oubliette

Mulder's eyes slowly adjusted to his dim surroundings and found that, when he tried to get up, he was completely immobile. His head pounded as frustration boiled up inside of him, "Scully, where are we?"

"Somewhere you should never have come." Mulder looked past Scully, at the man who had answered his question. The darkness muted his ability to see him clearly, but Mulder knew exactly who he was looking at.

"The house is surrounded, Tribbet, you have no chance of getting away." Mulder certainly hoped that this was true, but now wondered, more than before, where the hell Skinner was and why no one had come out here to look for him.

"You will not talk." Bernard ordered, "Not unless I ask you to."

"Right now, there are officers in the woods looking for us. It will look a lot better for you if we are not harmed." Mulder said anyway and received a well placed kick in the ribs for it.

"I said shut up." Bernard snarled pointing the gun again and pressing it into Mulder's temple, "You ruined my work.

I should kill you, I should just blast your brains all over the walls here." With every word the gun pushed more against Mulder's head and Scully could see that Bernard was losing control. His hands were twitching and his voice wavered in ferocity and Mulder winced as the metal of the gun barrel pressed against his head.

"Bernard, he's right. Let us go and it will go easier on you." She knew it was not likely that he would listen to her if he had ignored Mulder, but it did what she wanted anyway, it took Bernard's attention off of Mulder. Mulder was more expendable than she, he was an extra, not a part of Bernard's plan of vengeance against the women who hurt him. While she would be kept alive, at least for the time being, Mulder's death would have little effect on Bernard. No pleasure derived from shooting her partner, so it would be fast, too fast for Scully. She had to end their standoff.

"Not you too. You're the cause of all this, Diana. You just never stop arguing, you never know when to quit." Her plan had worked, and maybe a little too well. Bernard's rage had been provoked much more by her than Mulder and he turned it on her easily, "Nothing I did ever made you happy, you just argued with anything I said." Bernard grabbed Scully by the shoulders, their faces just inches apart. She could feel his hot breath blowing into her nose, but her eyes never looked away. She flinched when he brought the gun up, resting the hand that held it on her shoulder, "Get undressed."

Scully swallowed hard, this command not altogether unexpected but certainly terrifying. She had to check her breathing as she was nearly hyperventilating. Despite all of her years of facing one criminal or another, she had never experience sexual assault, never felt the exposure and helplessness that she presumed women must feel. She couldn't bring herself to look at Mulder, imagining the scene far too vividly on her own without seeing the same fear in his eyes. Her hesitation only made Bernard more insistent, "Now!" He shouted, his thunderous voice hurting her ears.

It was obvious now that Bernard was not really talking to Scully but whoever had originally brought on this rage in him, but Mulder no longer cared about the psychological reasons behind the killer's actions. Bernard had aimed whatever wrath had been building over the past year that he had not slain "Diana" at Scully and he wasn't about to lie here and do nothing. He heart raced, his blood boiled, and his stomach churned when Bernard demanded that Scully undress. He felt rage and illness chase one another in his head, "I'm gonna kill you, Tribbet." He threatened with clenched teeth, his voice low and dangerous. When Tribbet turned to him, he made sure that his eyes never flinched as they stared one another down.

Scully took the moment that the attention was off of her to make a move. She knew that her strength was inferior, but the FBI had trained her use skills that did not depend on strength. Grabbing Bernard's wrist, she turned and pulled down. Before he knew what was happening, she hit his arm against the wall with every ounce of power she had. Once again, Bernard Tribbet was caught by surprise and dropped the gun as the pain of the concrete wall shot up his arm on impact. He threw a blind punch, feeling her small body yield against the force of it. Scully knew she didn't have time to make a grab for the gun, so she kicked it away, attempting to aim for Mulder. Tribbet's fist slammed into her rib cage and thrust her into the wall. She knew she was still too close to him and needed to get a little distance between them before it became a competition of weight. Twisting away from him, her eyes found the bat and she went for it.

Mulder was turning his hands, attempting to free himself from the ropes and found that they were looser that he had thought. The struggling in front of him had begun so suddenly and he felt very helpless as Scully fought for her life. The small shelter seemed even smaller as he willed Scully to reach the bat before Tribbet could stop her. Pushing off with his knees, he threw himself in front of the large man and Tribbet fell heavily over Mulder. Even on the ground, Bernard reached out and grabbed Scully's ankle and she also hit the ground, just out of reach of the bat. Mulder could see Scully looking for the gun, but it had skidded somewhere in the shadows. Before she could get back on her feet and lunge for the bat, Tribbet tackled her. Mulder desperately pulled at the ropes around his hands, but it would still take a little time to get himself loose.

In the meantime, Bernard had wrestled Scully into submission, dragging her away from Mulder and holding her on her back with his weight. His large knuckles were white around her small wrists and his knees were dug into her thighs. Finally, she laid still, her chest moving rapidly as she pulled in air. Bernard leaned down and planted a little kiss on her neck and Scully's struggles began anew, "Get the hell away from me." She ordered in the same voice that she used to arrest someone. Bernard ignored her moving the kisses around her collar bone and back up to her face. He lifted her hands to put both wrists in his left hand and then laid them over her head. With his right hand, he began to unbuckle his belt.


	19. Mine

Skinner found himself frustrated with this chase. Whoever was driving, he had underestimated. The car had always turned just before every road block, always seemed to outmaneuver the police vehicles on the country roads. He accelerated, punching the gas and tailgating the jeep, clipping the back end to attempt to run it off the road. The first time the jeep swerved but gained control again, when Skinner did it again the jeep turned, attempting to get out of range and hitting a police vehicle that had appeared on the right. This time, the jeep lost control and spun, hitting a curb with both right wheels and finally stopping. Police cars surrounded it and Skinner donned his gun before rushing toward it.

"Get out of the vehicle!" He ordered, his patience run out, "Hands up, exit the vehicle now!" The door opened and Barbara Tribbet stepped out, her hands held high and her clothes matted with sweat, "Bernard Tribbet, get out of the car!"

Three officers began to arrest Barbara Tribbet as several more surrounded the jeep, "It's empty." One said, incredulously.

Skinner peered through the windows and saw that it was true, the car had held no one but Barbara Tribbet, "Where is Bernard Tribbet?" He demanded of the mother, "Where's Agent Scully?"

"Wherever they are, they are together." She smiled and Skinner had the extremely rare urge to hit a woman.

As more cars pulled up, Skinner asked one of the men he knew by sight if he had seen Mulder. He asked again and again, but no one had until, "I saw him go out of the back of the house when we were there." It was Dotson, "But, I thought he came back and jumped in the car with you." He told Skinner.

"We need to go back." Skinner said in his usual strict tone of no nonsense before trotting back to his car and pulling out his cell phone to dial Mulder.

* * *

Scully's heart felt like it was about to explode as it pounded almost painfully in her chest. Her calm was far away and she was driving herself to exhaustion attempting to push this mountain off of her. Adrenaline kept her going for now, pulling away from his closeness and writhing beneath him. Bernard was painstakingly slow, his belt unfastened, but his hands would only experimentally caress Scully's face or trail a finger down her chest and below to stroke the soft skin of her stomach as he slightly lifted her shirt. His touch on her bare skin felt like a snake slithering over her. Finally, when she realized that she was unable to help or save herself, she turned to look at Mulder. Not to beg for his help, but to let him know that she couldn't win and that she didn't blame him. Attempting to alleviate guilt in her partner would be futile, she knew Mulder's nature, but for the lack of any hope, she had to try. Bernard's hand cupped her cheek and turned her face back to his, "You're mine now. He cannot help you and you will never hurt me again." His tiny lipped kiss brushed her full mouth.

The only saving grace that Mulder could pick out was that Bernard Tribbet was taking his time. He must have felt as if they would never be discovered and that he had time to enjoy his revenge. Mulder was struggling to keep his cool, knowing he would need to if he was going to help Scully. It was one of the most difficult things he ever had to do, however, the urge to panic and go mad with frustration and rage as he watched Tribbet touch Scully was nearly too much for him. He tried to concentrate only on what kept him from beating Tribbet into the ground with the bat and worked methodically to loosen the ropes around his hands.

He was still when he saw Scully look at him. Her eyes were sad and forgiving, but the fact that she was attempting to keep him from feeling guilty while her personal trauma unfolded, only made him feel worse.

"You're mine now."

The words were the worst kind of insult. The last person Scully belonged to was Bernard Tribbet. If she belonged to anyone, she belonged to him, Mulder thought bitterly, now regretting even more that he hadn't said this to her before now. At the very least, he belonged to her, heart and soul.


	20. Every Moment

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading this far! Hope those of you who are reading again like the edits. Please review.

* * *

Mulder's phone began to chirp and everyone froze. Bernard glared at him, and shook his head, his mannerism becoming more animal-like with every passing moment. The pause lasted until the phone was silent and Bernard turned back to Scully. Scully felt chilly air hit her torso as Bernard slid her shirt up, exposing her underclothes. His hand pressed firmly on her stomach and began to slide upward. His thin dry lips kissed around her face and she turned away from him, hoping to only see Mulder.

"You're mine." Bernard repeated, bringing her eyes back to him. She wanted to scream at him, deny this ridiculous claim that she belonged to him. Her body shook as her fighting became less of a force and more of an annoyance to her attacker. Even though she knew Tribbet wouldn't allow it to last, her eyes sought out Mulder again, seeking out the eyes of the man to whom she truly felt like she belonged. Tribbet had lost patience, however began to drag her in a position where she would no longer be able to see Mulder. It worked, and Bernard's large body became a barrier between Mulder and Scully's line of sight. Bernard's broad shouldered back faced Mulder and Scully could no longer see him. This made her feel even worse somehow, that her connection was gone, no matter how little.

Bernard seemed to be out of patience in more ways than one. He took his own shirt off before his clumsy hands worked at the buttons on her jeans. Her new struggles were answered with a soft, "Shhhh. It's time." His fingers began to slide down the front of her pants before, suddenly, his weight was taken off of her. A black shoed foot came from nowhere kicking at Tribbet, silent and efficient and Scully realized that Mulder had escaped his binds.

It had been both terrifying and a blessing when Tribbet turned himself and Scully away from Mulder. He could work faster and had felt his hands pull free at last. As silently as possible, he had frantically pulled the ropes from his legs. There was not enough time to look for the gun in the dark, but the bat was completely accessible. The kick was simply to shove him away from Scully and the next blow with the bat was for taking her from him in the first place. It landed heavily on Bernard's shoulder. He added another for hurting her. There were several more to come, he would deal one out for touching her inappropriately, and for every moment of fear he had given her. Next would come for every moment of anger he had caused Mulder. Before the third one came, Bernard lunged forward, tackling Mulder in the midsection, even as Mulder dealt out another blow with the bat. They both crashed against the concrete wall, grunting with the impact.

Mulder was not done by a long shot, his anger far beyond allowing him to feel an insignificant pain like this one. Bernard grabbed the bat in his hand, and they began to wrestle for it. Amazingly, Scully was up and moved to assist her partner. Bernard saw her and lost any control he may have yet had. With and irate howl, he charged at her, his huge body seemed to swallow her as his thick fingers wrapped around her throat with impossible speed. The force took them both against the wall and he began to aggressively strangle her, seemingly forgetting that Mulder was behind him with the bat. The dull resonating sound of wood against skull filled the room and Bernard crumbled to the ground along with Scully. Mulder kicked Bernard away and knelt in front of Scully his hands softly cupping her face.

They stared at one another for a moment, catching their breath, Scully coughing. He didn't have to ask if she was alright, he knew she needed to go to the hospital. He would probably benefit from a visit himself. Scully's ragged breathing morphed into broken sobs and she reached for Mulder. He held her gratefully but tenderly and they both rose to their feet. He waited until her breathing calmed before breaking their embrace and finally looking for the gun, amazed by how short a time it too for her to regain her equanimity. He found her gun and holstered it before pulling out his phone and to dial Skinner when it rang again before he could punch in the numbers, "Mulder." He answered, hoarsely.

"Agent Mulder, where are you? I've been trying to reach you." Skinner's voice was a worried version of stern.

"In the wooded area behind the house." He answered, "We need medical attention."

"We?" Skinner's voice came back, and Mulder thought he could hear an edge of hope.

"Agent Scully and myself." He wanted to smile at the silence that followed.

"Help is on the way." Skinner promised finding his voice again after a moment and they both hung up.

Mulder looked back down at Scully and they both began to move toward the door. Shoving it open, they had no second thoughts of leaving Bernard Tribbet inside, injured. A blast of cool air hit them but they both were grateful for it and that it meant they were not trapped in the shelter anymore. He found his own gun on the ground outside and picked it up as well. Mulder could hear the oncoming officers and spotted Skinner first, running toward them.

Unwilling to exert Scully, Mulder stood there with his arm around her until their rescue party reached them. Skinner looked around, his gun drawn, "Where's Tribbet?"

Mulder motioned down the hole and officers began to flood the storm shelter, coming up in a few moments with a handcuffed and groggy Bernard Tribbet. Even with their killer incapacitated, Mulder put himself between Scully and Tribbet, his eyes bearing down on Bernard with pure hatred. EMT's were close behind and they began to assess the two agents. Once it was decided that they could walk to the car and drive themselves to the hospital, Mulder did not want to waste any time getting Scully there. Glancing down at her as they walked, he resisted the urge to carry her. His missed opportunity was never far from his mind, and he vowed not to let it pass again; he would bare his soul.


	21. I Do Not Gaze

The arrival at the hospital had been expected and both wounded agents had been greeted immediately upon entering. Mulder made sure their attention was on his partner, but Skinner intervened, "Agent Mulder, you need to be seen to, there are plenty of staff here to take care of you both."

His physical exam revealed a minor concussion and he was released with pain medication. Skinner had gone to fetch their luggage and Mulder was able change from his dirty suit to clean jeans and a t-shirt. He walked out of the exam room and sat in the waiting room beside the Assistant Director.

"How's Scully doing?" He asked instantly.

"She has several injuries but should recover completely." He informed Mulder, "I let her know that Elise VanDuran was found in the grave by the shelter." He added, somberly, "Samantha Gayton, however, will make a full recovery."

Mulder sighed and leaned forward but did not answer. He couldn't help but feel both success and failure. Two lives had been saved, even though one was lost.

* * *

Scully was dressing after her physical exam, which revealed a few cracked ribs and plenty of bruises, but nothing too serious. She was told to take it easy and get some rest. Scully's head was still tender where Bernard had hit her with the gun, but she wouldn't need stiches. She was luckier than Elise VanDuran, she thought.

Skinner had brought her a change of clothing from her bag. It was no longer evidence after all since she was no longer a murder victim. She ceremoniously folded up the clothing that had once belonged to Diana and place it in a plastic bag. She felt as if she were burying the real Diana, whom she hoped might find some peace now that Bernard Tribbet had been stopped.

Sighing, she finished buttoning her shirt, thankful that she had been allowed to the use of the faculty shower. Bernard's kisses still trailed down her body and her skin crawled at the feeling of his hands. It would take some time for these sensations to cease being so horrifying. It was hard not to think about it, so she attempted to replace it. While showering, she imagined a gentle hand wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. She had closed her eyes and imagined Mulder's familiar face. He would be so tender, caring, and selfless that she would never need to be afraid. Mulder's kisses wouldn't be the tiny little experimental pecks that Bernard had sprinkled on her, his lips dry and fungus-like. Mulder's kiss would be warm, firm and full of passion. Everywhere that Bernard had touched, she replaced with Mulder and ended the shower with a small smile on her face. Bernard Tribbet was gone. For now.

There was no disguising her embarrassment when she came out and saw Mulder. Her self-healing technique of using him to substitute Tribbet may not have been such a good idea after all. Thankfully, neither Skinner nor Mulder seemed to take notice.

"How ya feeling?" Mulder asked her, his hazel eyes tired but happy.

She didn't get the chance to answer because a voice came up behind them, "Dana?" They all turned to see Samantha Gayton walking briskly toward them. Scully smiled at her, "Samantha, I'm glad you're alright." She didn't exactly look alright. Her face was covered in bruises and she sported a limp, but once again, they were both luckier than Elise.

"Been better, but alive." She commented, "Good to see you alive." She gave a sad smile, "I just wanted to thank you for putting yourself in his way when he came down for me. I think he was coming to kill me…like Elise, but…" She began to mumble, but Scully had understood. She knew that after Bernard had hit her with the gun, he may have hit Samantha, but he had changed his plans to kill her.

"I'm just glad you're safe." Scully said, rescuing her from having to relive it. A young man glanced their way from down the hall and then followed Samantha. He smiled at Scully, "You're Dana?"

"Yes, Matt, this is Dana. This is my boyfriend Matt."

Samantha said, taking his hand.

"Agent Mulder, and Assistant Director Skinner." Scully said introducing the men behind her.

"Thank you so much, Dana." Matt began, "We owe you Samantha's life. I can't even describe how devastated I was when I heard the news, but you brought her back to me. I don't know what I would have done if anything happened to her." He said, sincerely, his eyes growing moist.

Mulder listened to Matt, but gazed at Scully the whole time, the boy's words reflecting his own feelings. After the couple had gone, the three FBI personnel headed for the hospital door.


	22. Epilogue

**11:21pm**

Mulder and Scully followed the recommendation that they not travel that night, despite Scully's objections. She just wanted to be home, but the doctor advised that she rest first and travel the next day. It was late by the time they finished with the reports and paperwork anyway and getting on a plane would take hours. Scully had made a statement, having to tell the whole story again. Mulder could tell she had been uncomfortable, in spite of her ability to hide it. He could see even the slightest clues in her facial expressions and tone of voice. It made him angry all over again to hear the Tribbet had kept his victims like animals and treated his partner thusly.

He could tell that she was exhausted by the time they reached the hotel. It was an eerily familiar scene as they walked in the rain toward their respective doors, "Goodnight, Mulder." She said, wearily and Mulder felt the same tug at his heart.

"Goodnight." He said, softly, his voice purveying so much more. It would be cruel to open this can of worms tonight when she was probably suffering from low grade shock on top of several wounds and stress, so he stayed silent.

"Mulder?" She came again and he nearly shuddered.

He held his breath, hoping, "Yeah?"

"Nothing. Goodnight." She entered the room and he resisted the urge to follow. Bernard Tribbet's attack had been less than twenty four hours ago. She must surely be haunted by what had happened, and what had nearly happened. That is why Mulder decided to continue into his own room rather than follow. The last thing she probably wanted was a man's embrace or kiss. She needed time, he told himself. It wasn't fair to put his wants above her needs. With a last look at her door, he entered his room with a conflicted heart.

Sitting on his bed with a sigh, he smiled. Scully was here with him, alive and recovering. When he thought about how he had felt when he believed she had been murdered, he refused to feel regretful. He had no right to feel badly when she was safe again and alive against all odds and previous belief. But somehow, the uneasy feeling crept back up. Now that he understood exactly what she meant to him, it was all he could do to keep from writing it in the sky.

* * *

**2:07am**

Scully had fallen into a light sleep, waking with a start, half expecting to be in Tribbet's cellar. She gave a relieved sigh when the memories came flooding back. This happened half a dozen times before she gave up on sleep. The sigh was mixed with respite and unease as the feeling of Tribbet's hands crept over her again. She had no right to feel so troubled when Elise VanDuran was dead. She pushed it away, though her skin tingled uncomfortably as the memory slithered across it. Blinking, she noticed that the door that connected her room with Mulder's had a light coming from beneath it. A shadow also passed in the space beneath the door and it was obvious that Mulder was not asleep either. Putting a robe over her tank top and dark blue cotton pajama bottoms, she walked barefoot to the door and knocked.

Mulder answered almost instantly, in his t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and they both paused a moment, judging the other's face, "Is everything ok?" Mulder asked finally.

"Yeah," she answered, "I just couldn't sleep."

Mulder moved aside, wordlessly inviting her in, "Have a seat, I was just going to watch some Shark Week." He said, but he took on a serious tone as he saw the distress on her face, "What is it?"

She sat on the bed, studying the dingy carpet before scoffing at herself, "It's a double edged sword. I feel violated, but do I really have the right to be distressed when Elise VanDuran wasn't so lucky? I should feel grateful that I didn't share that fate, but I only feel troubled." Her blue eyes came up to meet Mulder's hazel ones.

"Scully, you have every right to feel distress." He said, sitting beside her and gently taking her hands into his, "Just because you were more fortunate than Elise VanDuran doesn't mean you were fortunate. The man abducted you and I saw what he did." Mulder swallowed, taking his partner in. She had a few scrapes on her face and bruises in several other places. The ginger way she sat down on his bed suggested that it was painful to move around, "It wasn't easy to watch and I felt helpless. I can only imagine how it made you feel. You'll need some time to recover."

She gave him the smallest of smiles in thanks for his understanding. Taking him in, she could see that he was tired. His face was drawn and his eyes were stressed and he was looking at her as if she might disappear if he was not on alert at all times, "You look as if you could use a little time to heal as well. And some sleep. How's your head?" She asked, knowing he Tribbet had hit him with the bat.

"My head is better than my nerves." He told her and her head tilted asking him to explain. He stood, sighing, and pacing, unable to look at her, "Scully, you were gone this morning. I thought you were dead and I had to face what my life would be like without you. That's left a pretty big impression. I thought I would have to watch him hurt you in that shelter today and I wouldn't be able to stop it, to save you." He knelt in front of her and, both sets of eyes, more worried and sympathetic of the other than for themselves, connected.

Scully's had filled with tears, "But you did save me." She told him leaning closer, her hand caressing his face, "I'd be dead if you had followed Skinner."

"And I'd be lost." He said simply, touching his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her face. Before he knew what he was doing, he leaned in and kissed her.

Just as she had imagined, Mulder's kiss was full of the same type of fervent passion that he used while searching for the truth within the X-Files, the same passion and dedication that had made her fall in love with him long before she had realized it. His soft lips embraced hers with such a warmth and ardor that she was completely overcome. It was not timid, but firm and sure.

Mulder was shocked to find that he was not the only one kissing. Scully embraced his touch and returned it with more desire and emotion that he would have thought she had possibly felt for him. Her cool exterior had hidden more than he imagined and he realized that he might not be as talented at reading her as he thought. He would have assumed she might have pulled away but, as they continued to kiss, he let his uncertainty go.

The kiss finally broke and both agents were silent for a time as they held onto one another. It was the single most passionate moment of Mulder's life, and it had only been a kiss. Scully pulled away to meet his eyes and no words needed to pass between them to know. Mulder would never have done this flippantly and Scully would never have accepted it unwillingly. They had both wanted it.

"Stay with me?" He whispered and she nodded. Stripping her robe, she slipped beneath the quilt of his bed and Mulder followed, curling his body gently around her. Mulder could barely stop watching her, unable to believe this was happening. He wanted to touch her, kiss her more, and he felt his entire body ache for these things.

Scully felt her body relax for the first time since she had been taken by Bernard Tribbet. She felt safe here with Mulder, his protective body and his soft hand gently stroking her bare arm making all the difference. She felt his devotion and love very potently, as if his emotions were energizing the air around them. "I meant it, I would be lost." He said, softly in her ear, "I need you. For more than just what you add to our investigations. If there were no X-Files, I would still need you."

Scully was never one to bare her soul, but his openness seemed to bring it out in her. She turned to him, "I'm not going anywhere. With or without the X-Files, my place is with you." They shared another kiss, the unspoken love left unspoken, but utterly understood. In this time and place, they were both finally able to sleep.

THE END


	23. Thanks!

I wanted to post an additional chapter to thank everyone who read this and stuck with it to the end. I hope you enjoyed it and approve of my liberties taken with Mulder and Scully as I tried to make it within their characters as closely as possible. Thanks again, I hope to be posting a new story soon!


	24. Update!

Hello again! I have updated this story. There are a lot of additions, edits, and corrections that make it much more readable, I think. A few things are different in the story too. Please review and let me know what you think of the edits. Thanks!


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